Beachwood Sparks Reignite the Flame
A chat with Farmer Dave Scher about the L.A. band’s first new album in 12 years

There’s certainly something to be said for reverence for past precepts, especially when it comes to making music.
Beachwood Sparks have always understand that, and since 1997, they made it their mission — and their mantra — to bring past to present by effectively echoing the sounds of the ‘60s in the form of the Byrds, the Beach Boys and other halcyon standard-bearers of L.A.’s Laurel Canyon environs. They have, in turn, inspired other outfits to do the same — Mystic Chords of Memory, GospelbeacH, The Tyde and The Hanging Stars to name but a few of the fellow travelers who have shared those sounds in sync.
The core combo — bassist Brent Rademaker, guitarist Chris Gunst and guitarist Farmer Dave Scher — have released a string of superb albums over the years — their eponymous debut (2000), Once We Were Trees (2001), and The Tarnished Gold (2012), as well as a string of equally impressive EPs — Make the Cowboy Robots Cry (2002), Desert Skies (2013) and Beachwood Deluxe (2021) — but it had been a full twelve years since their last outing. In the meantime, the members kept in touch while dispersing to take on other projects. Other individuals that had been in the band came and went, while some passed away, among them, co-founder Josh Schwartz and fellow traveler Neal Casal.

Happily then, Beachwood Sparks’ new album, Across the River of Stars, makes for a triumphant return. Their first new offering in twelve years, it’s as luminous as the title suggests, twelve tracks (including three remixes) that are both rousing and riveting in equal measure. Opening offering “My Love My Love” sets the tone, veering from an upbeat instrumental to a concerted sway. “Torn In Two” brings in those mid ‘60s influences courtesy of a breezy mid tempo rocker. So too, “Falling Forever,” “Gem” and “Gentle Samurai,” with their shimmering twelve string guitars and hushed harmonies, sounds as if they were plucked from the Byrds songbook. There’s a cosmic connection to these songs as well, a vague hint of psychedelia which further affirms their devotion to past precepts.
In short, the new album finds them in fine form, as if, as always, time has stood still.
“Every 12 years seems to be our fate lately,” Scher said, speaking to Rock & Roll Globe. “It’s like that Fairport Convention song, ‘Who Knows Where the Time Goes.’ Twelve years? Yeah, I don’t know what took us this amount of time. I do know there was an amount of time that went by since we were super active. Once that time ended, and there were several years off, the band resurfaced for air. So by that time, it established a precedent of some advice to the youngsters, which is, ‘Don’t break up. Just veer off until you forget what you were mad about.’”
That may be good advice, but on the other hand, twelve years is an extraordinarily long time to be away, especially in today’s fickle world where audiences seem to be drawn to the latest flavor of the month.
“It’s almost like if you had a time machine, instead of going forward in time, we just pause the band, and ourselves,” Scher suggests. “It was almost like a plant coming back up. It felt like organically, the kind of music we’re about, in addition to a lot of things, of course. We were getting influences from nature a lot, which you could hear in our songs. We were starting to get very influenced by books like Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee and Black Elk Speaks and we’ve been learning about the First Nations people and indigenous ideas. We got really into the earth and nature.”

They ventured into other realms as well. “Chris had developed a practice as a therapist back in the mid 2000s, and I’ve just followed him almost 20 years later and got an associate degree in clinical psychology,” Scher said. “Chris is a clinical psychologist and therapist and sound healer. Chris sings about that a lot. Whether you want to say the band has a leader or not, I think he’s our touchstone because of how tuned in he is to the feelings and this kind of approach. We’d even gotten together in 2019, or maybe it was even early 2020, so it wouldn’t have been 12 years. But the pandemic flattened that. Also, while we were rehearsing for this album, I was sometimes in another building, attending remote classes while they rehearsed, and then showing up when I was out of school. But now it seems like it could be a good time to poke our head up again and see how is it now. This is a particularly interesting time to resurface as a member of the band and I think we all appreciated that fact.”
That said, the members haven’t been idle as far as music was concerned.
“Chris has his Mystic Chords of Memory albums,” Scher continued. “I love those. Plus, he started working with Elvis Costello. Plus, I made a couple of albums under my own name, Farmer Dave Scher. One other band I was involved in is the Skiffle Players as being myself, Dan Horne, Neal Casal, Aaron Sperske and Cass McCombs.”
The new album was produced by Chris Robinson who Scher refers to as an early champion of the band. “He took us out on the road with his band,”Scher continues. “I played with Chris several times in different jamming situations.”
Other events occurred as well that, in Scher’s words, planted the seed for the band’s reunion. “Another interesting thing that happened was around 2014 or so,”Scher recalls. “There was a Grateful Dead anniversary stream of some kind and all of a sudden we found ourselves playing with those guys. We saw Harper Simon playing with those guys. And Neil [Casal] played with those guys and we played with Phil Lesh and so that found the guys of our generation playing with those guys. The Byrds and the Grateful Dead was just such a such a thing for us because out here in California, that’s our home. So the next thing you knew there was a cross pollination and Phil Lesh came out and jammed with us. And through that, I ended up getting to play with Phil Lesh and Friends. Those things just change your molecules for life. We also got back together to play with My Bloody Valentine at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. We also played one more time for a CRB festival, so we were all there and Neal was there. It was a bit of a pre-pandemic last hurrah.And we played with the at Neal’s Memorial at the Capitol Theater on the East Coast. But then that was it for a time.”
Things naturally seemed to gel after that. “When we did get back together, Chris had the seeds of some beautiful songs,” Scher says. “He kind of has a pressure cooker style, which I liked. We don’t know the words till the very end. So a lot of it’s like these musical movements. And what I like about it is not knowing what a chorus is necessarily. I would play things that you normally wouldn’t think would go here are there. Things that come in loud in a verse, for example, and instead of getting out of the way, it made it cool. When the words did come, you’d kind of written to the energy of that, which makes them kind of fresh, I think, because we weren’t just settling into archaic song forms. It all came together really nicely.”
VIDEO: Beachwood Sparks “Torn In Two”
“Archaic song forms” can mean different things to different to different people. In this case, Scher was referring to the time when DIY music and indie rock were having a profound effect on the culture.
“We all liked punk music that played different variants, bands like Dinosaur Jr, and Sonic Youth and all the college stuff we heard on the radio,”Scher mentions. “You’re starting to hear a little more of that on this albumI think. I’ve heard us have all kinds of sounds and distortion things, and there’s a lot of that on this album that speaks to a little more of who we are.”
Happily, after the hiatus, things came together quickly. “We didn’t rehearse a ton,” Scher mused. “And we didn’t write for more than one or two sessions I don’t think. But this is our native tongue, so to speak. I think that I couldn’t speak to everyone in the band’s relationship as far anything being awkward or challenging, but I would say, for me, being in a band can be tough.. When we were younger, we depended on each other completely. We were in a little van for so much time, and everything was everybody’s business. Most bands break up or take a break over stuff like that. Chris had just gotten married and they had started a new life. And he wasn’t in the same town as us. But I always felt on the same plain with them and loved everything that happened since that initial time period. I think for me, there used to be triggers. When I was younger, someone might say something that bruised the ego or kind of start to get me into weird moods, and I’d withdraw from the group. I had my little things, and these days, becoming a psychologist, it’s part of our deal to learn how to be present, and notice what comes up that makes us uncomfortable.”
It seems then, that Beachwood Sparks is back to stay. As Scher shares it, the chemistry has never been better.
“Now we notice what works, and if those things come up, you look around and it’s like, wow, we never used to be able to do that without getting defensive,” he reflects. “I think there’s part of the reason this record to be is really fresh sounding too. It’s because there is a lot of enjoyment, and it’s not overly thought out. Plus, I think everyone’s more comfortable to say what’s on their mind or not be as affected quite as much by any pressure like there used to be. I think there’s something kind of funny about making a record as if no time has passed. That to me is funny. We don’t sound like it’s been that long. It’s sort of like, ‘What are these guys doing? I think it’s kind of amazing. Having a new album after 12 years has got to be some sort of a beacon. It’s a nice beacon for the future. Maybe we’re back where we belong. I think it’s a good indication that it’s a favorable time. It’s a terrific feeling.”
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